The Devil's Workshop

“So one prisoner has apparently changed jackets with a guard. He either killed that guard or simply saw an opportunity after the train hit. Four prisoners have escaped, but there could very well be a fifth man. This man in the stolen guard’s clothing has disappeared.”

“We don’t know about a fifth man,” the warden said. “That’s pure conjecture. Too much chaos to be sure of anything yet.”

“What about the other cells?” Day didn’t look at the warden, but gazed at one of the empty cells as he talked. “Are there any empty cells in the other wings?”

“A few, I suppose.”

“But you have no idea how many?”

“No, sir. That’s not right. We keep excellent records.”

Day said nothing. He raised one eyebrow and waited.

“Well,” the warden said, “today is rather an unusual case, isn’t it?”

“I certainly hope so.” Day knew he was being hard on the man, but couldn’t seem to help himself. He looked away at the piles of stone and twisted iron bars around them and considered his next question carefully. He didn’t want to completely alienate the warden before he’d got all the information the official might be able to provide. The warden had lost several dangerous prisoners, but through no fault of his own. A runaway locomotive wasn’t something he could have expected or planned for. If the escapees were found and returned quickly enough, Munt might be able to salvage his reputation and keep his position at the prison.

Day’s train of thought was interrupted by the sight of Sergeant Hammersmith, who rounded the corner at the end of the hall, leading a small thin man by the elbow.

“Sergeant,” Day said. “Good to see you.”

“This is the clerk,” Hammersmith said. “Mr Folger.”

Day shook Folger’s hand and introduced himself. The little man clutched a sheaf of file folders. “The prisoners,” he said. “The ones who’ve gone missing.”

“Four of them?”

“Perhaps.”

“But there’s an irregularity, correct?”

“There is.”

“What sort?”

“Well.” Folger was warming up now, his expression grim, but his body animated. “I can account for four men. The four we know about. Or at least tell you who they are, what to look for.” He was clearly anxious to help and, Day was sure, anxious to avoid as much personal embarrassment as possible.

“But there’s something unusual about one of them?”

“No,” Folger said. “I mean, yes. But not one of the four. It’s just that I think there was a fifth man.”

“So you’ve indicated to my commissioner.”

“See here now,” the warden said. “I’ve already explained it to you, Folger. You’ve made a mistake. There’s no reason to go about—”

“Please,” Day said. “Perhaps it’s a mistake, perhaps not, but I’d like to hear what he has to say, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, sir, there’s one empty cell in the next wing that confuses me.”

“How so?”

“There’s evidence of habitation.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t properly cleaned after the last prisoner there left it,” the head warder said. “As I said, we do have shirkers among the men.”

“Quite so,” Day said. “But if there was someone in that cell last night, that prisoner is also missing. In addition to these in here, that would make five men gone, not four.”

“It might appear so,” Munt said. “But my thinking is that the cell was probably always empty.”

“You and Mr Folger seem to disagree on the facts. I’d like to hear more from him.”

The warden threw up his arms and walked several steps away down the corridor toward where the doctor was huddled over the dead warder. But Day noted that he had remained just close enough to be able to hear anything Folger told them.

“Go on, sir,” Day said.

“Right,” Folger said. He glanced at his employer. “Yes. Well. A fifth man. I think there was one, in that cell. But I don’t know who he was. That’s the irregularity, you see?”

“You’ve lost the missing man’s file?”

“No. I never had his file.”

Day shook his head, confused, not sure what question to ask next. Behind him, he could hear the low murmur of words as the warden talked to Dr Bickford-Buckley. Short snatches of their conversation drifted to him. “… it’s a shame… overzealous, is all…” Day narrowed his eyes as if that might help him eavesdrop, but Folger mistook his expression for irritation and held up his free hand.

“The fifth man wasn’t a prisoner here,” he said. “Or, rather, we don’t know if he was a… We don’t know who he was, that’s all.”

“Are you saying that someone broke in to the prison right before the others broke out of it? And then left again with the escapees?”

“Well, I know that doesn’t make any sense at all, but I can’t think of another explanation.”

“Why are you so sure there was anyone in that empty cell?”

“I have records indicating that meals were taken there. Regular meals over the course of the past two days.”

“Is it possible one of the warders was stealing food?”

“Well, I suppose it’s possible. But I don’t know why he would. The warders are fed much better meals than the prisoners are. It’s not as if they’re starving, you know.”